


Pagejumpers: a Literary Adventure

by funnygirlthatbelle13



Category: The Electric Company (TV 2009)
Genre: Gen, Merry Misadventures, Terrible rhymes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 09:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funnygirlthatbelle13/pseuds/funnygirlthatbelle13
Summary: Written by myself and Gandalf15 on FF.Net for Jedi Annie Scrambler.: Strange circumstances lead to the discovery of a magical library where touching an open book results in you being sucked into the story... literally! The Company and Pranksters put their spin on some well-known works of literature, all orchestrated by some mysterious troublemakers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prologue

Miss Heffenbacher, I found a rather interesting volume on vegetable related magic which I thought you might find interesting. I’m leaving town to visit family, so if you would like to pick it up, please come to my library at one o’clock this Saturday.  
Saturday came, and Lisa was thrilled to have snagged a taxi from her house to Calvero’s. It was raining like a hurricane was passing through, and she didn’t want to be soggy in his library. As she hummed to the driver’s radio, she wondered if any of the spells involved artichokes.  
Mr. Ruiz, the hair care potion I was speaking about last week is highly confidential. I can only share the recipe with you in private under sworn secrecy. If you are still willing, please meet me in my library at one this Saturday.  
Ironic that the day he’s going to get hair tips, it’s raining. He trenched his way from the community center to Calvero’s, bitterly hoping that this potion worked miracles.  
My dear Francine, I recently stumbled upon a volume about alchemy, the study of creating gold out of other materials, in my library. This is a most complex form of magic, but you are extremely capable and hopefully willing to assist. If you would like to help me attempt some of the spells, please meet me in my library at one o’clock Saturday. Your assistant is welcome as well.  
Clad in a lab coat and goggles, Francine and a notebook carrying Gilda (“Because remember, Gilda, the difference between screwing around and science is writing it down.”) sat in their warm, dry Tuber discussing what Francine would do once she figured out how to turn wordballs into gold wordballs.  
Mr. Watson, while wandering through my brother Bandini’s painting I found something of yours. I would come to your father’s establishment except that I am currently suffering from a sprained ankle and cannot walk far. However, if you could come to my library around one this Saturday, I would be able to give it back.  
Keith really hoped that whatever Calvero had of his was a jacket. He was soaked to the bone. When he’d left that morning for Paul’s piano lesson, the sky gave no indication of pouring the entire Atlantic Ocean on him. Hopefully, Calvero knew an umbrella-creating spell.  
Miss Ruiz, I would be delighted to perform at the Skeleckian embassy’s Shrnalk party. In order to determine what routine I should choose, however, I shall need to discuss cultural sensitivities and preferences, as I am rather uncultured. Could we perhaps discuss this over tea in my library of spells at one this Saturday?  
Clothes should always come in matching sets, Jessica decided. Nothing is better than not having to color coordinate everything you’re wearing. She smiled at her duck-clad feet. Her rubber duck rain ensemble; which including an umbrella, rain hat, rain coat, and rain boots; was not the most professional thing she could be wearing to official Skeleckian business. However, she was dry and felt sunnier than Lisa, so it was worth it.  
Young Master Barnes, I found a volume on barnacle-based spells which I thought you might appreciate. If you would like to borrow it, please come visit me at my library this Saturday around one.  
“I’m singing in the rain! Just singing in the rain!” Marcus sang as he ran down the street. His mom had sent him to do a bunch of errands, but he had to go see Calvero first. Barnacle magic? How could he pass it up?  
Mr. Spamboni, I know you are quite versed in all things technology, for your reputation proceeds you. Would you mind coming to my library this Saturday around one to test out a magical video game I am working on?  
Manny had always wanted to be a beta tester for a video game, and this was his chance. Possibilities for how the technology and magic would interact dashed through his brain faster than he could process. Maybe Calvero would lend him a hand in creating a magical robot.  
Mr. Rebus, on behalf of my brother Bandini, we apologize for your unpleasant trip in his painting. He has created a new one which he believes you will enjoy much more. Unfortunately, he was called out of town suddenly for a gallery opening, so he cannot be there. However, the painting is in my library. Please come at one o’clock this Saturday. The word’s cappuccino.  
It was about time someone apologized and tried to fix the situation, Danny thought as he stormed past a slow walking lady in a bright yellow rain getup. This was how things are supposed to go when someone hurts Danny Rebus. But no, no one was ever thoughtful enough to consider his feelings. Really, what had he ever done to them?  
Miss Scrambler, your uncle and I were discussing a rather fascinating book regarding the similarities and differences between hypnotism and magic. I have recently found the aforementioned book as well as one I thought might interest you. If you could come pick them up this Saturday at one, I would be much obliged. Trust me, you’ll like what’s in there.  
“This better be good,” Annie muttered, tromping through the puddles. It was an extremely miserable type of day, the type of day that made her want to curl up in her room listening to vinyls and drinking chai tea. Yet here she was, out and about on a day when she should be at home.  
If this book wasn’t amazing, she would throw a fit. 

Needless to say, when Annie found half of The Electric Company and Manny already in the library, a fit was thrown.  
“Of course it’s a trap! How could I be so stupid to think Calvero actually wanted to give Uncle Sigmund a book?”  
“So wait, this isn’t a Prankster trap?” Jessica clarified, looking between the two Pranksters.  
“If it is, no one told me about it,” Manny said.  
“Well, why would Calvero want all of us to be in his library then?” Lisa wondered aloud.  
Just then, the sound of arguing could be heard.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!”  
“Yeah, you know exactly what she’s talking about!”  
“Thank you, Gilda!”  
“Look, all I know is that I got a note asking me to come here and pick something of mine up.”  
Three more people entered the library: Francine, Gilda, and a completely soaked Keith.  
“Great, just great,” Gilda muttered under her breath upon seeing the others who were already in the library.  
“Okay, so does anyone know what’s going on?” Keith asked. The group all gave various confirmation that they had absolutely no clue why they were there.  
“Should we just wait for Danny and Marcus to show up and then see what happens?” Lisa suggested.  
Since no one could come up with a better idea, they spread out to various corners of the library. The Pranksters all sulked on one side of the room while Hector and Lisa sat in another discussing possible explanations of why they were all gathered there. Keith sat in front of the fireplace with Jessica pacing behind him, anxiously waiting for their small friend to arrive.  
“I don’t like it,” Jessica muttered, “I just don’t like it. This feels like a trap.”  
“If it is, Gilda’s gotten a lot better at lying,” Keith remarked, remembering the last time the Prankster-in-training had been tasked with tricking them.  
“This whole situation just feels wrong. We shouldn’t be waiting here like sitting ducks. We need to figure out what’s going on!”  
“Will you shut up?” Annie called across the library, “We have no idea what’s going on either.”  
“Well, you can’t blame her for being suspicious,” Gilda pointed out, “This does feel like a prank.”  
“Sorry I’m late, Calvero!” came the voice of the youngest member of The Electric Company, “It’s raining cats and dogs out there. Not literally but- oh hey, guys. What are you doing here?”  
“Hi, Marcus,” Lisa said sweetly, “No one knows what’s going on.”  
“Huh, that’s weird,” the child remarked.  
“Yep,” Annie agreed, “Very weird.”  
“Cappucinno! Capuccino! Capucino!”  
“Is that Danny?” Francine asked.  
“What is he doing?”  
“Capuccino! Capucino! Where the heck is this painting?”  
“Rebus!” Annie called, “Get in here!”  
“Why is everybody in here?” he asked in shock as he stared around the room.  
“No idea,” Manny muttered, not looking up from a text he was sending.  
“Totally stumped,” Gilda admitted.  
“Even I can’t figure it out,” Francine stated in a bragging tone.  
“What about you, Electric Company?” Danny, asked, turning towards the do-gooders, “Is this all some crazy plan of yours?”  
The five teenagers in question stared at each other in shock.  
“They’re not denying it!” Danny pointed out in a very loud manner, “That means they’re guilty!”  
“Danny, why would we do this, man?” Hector asked, “Think about it: it makes no sense.”  
“So I’m crazy?” he screamed, looking very crazy as he did so, “I’m crazy for being suspicious?”  
“No, Danny, nobody here thinks you’re crazy,” Lisa tried to use her most soothing voice, but Danny would have none of that.  
“Sure, let’s just start lying to him now. Crazy, stupid Danny won’t be able to tell!”  
Lisa started to back away in alarm when she ran into a bookshelf.  
“Now look what you did!” Danny continued to scream, “You ruined the entire organizational system! We’ll have to realphabetize the whole thing!”  
It was then that poor, clumsy Lisa’s foot tapped the edge of an open book. She felt suddenly nauseous as a bright light surrounded her.  
POOF!  
“Oh my god, where’s Lisa?” Hector yelled. Danny backed away sheepishly.  
“It’s not my fault. I have no idea,” he began stammering.  
“It’s a magician’s library,” Keith reasoned, getting over the shock, “Maybe it’s a magic book.”  
“That does make sense,” Annie admitted not particularly liking the fact that it did.  
“Well, what books is it? It might give us a clue,” Jessica asked. Tentatively, Hector picked up the book.  
“Macbeth,” he whispered. Danny gasped.  
“Don’t say the name!”  
“I never read it,” Manny said with a shrug.  
“It’s been awhile, and I don’t remember the details, but it wasn’t a safe place,” Hector told them.  
“Do we have to?” Annie asked.  
“Yes,” The Electric Company said in unison.  
And, with that, they all jumped into the book.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Macbeth and Pride and Prejudice

As the sunlight shone through the Scottish countryside, two horses appeared over the hill.  
Two horses, ridden by two generals. One was Macbeth, the thane of Glamis. The other was Danquo, his comrade in arms. They talked as they rode.  
"Aye," said Macbeth, "thine bravery was equally matched with mine own, in our battle against Mandonwald, o most accursed of traitors, and his dwarf of bewitched metals forged!"  
Danquo replied "He called it a 'robot'. Kept claiming it was an invention ahead of its time. But yes, I was very good in the battle, wasn't I?"  
Macbeth looked ahead of him, and held out his hand. "Stay," he said, "of what manner of apparitions block our way?"  
Before them were three ragged witches. The Elder Witch, Francine, and Lisa. As the two men approached, the Elder whispered "Now come the soldiers. Forget not your allocated speech!"  
The other two whispered. "What'd she say?" "She said to remember our lines."  
The Elder spoke up and said "Behold, sisters, the thane of Glamis and of Cawdor. See before us the king hereafter!"  
Macbeth's eyes were wide. "Thane of Cawdor? King?"  
Danquo shoved Macbeth aside. "So, we're doing fortunetelling, huh? Well what about me?"  
Silence. The Elder nudged Francine. She said, in a bored monotone, "Huh? Oh, yeah… 'Danquo shall be less than Macbeth, yet more, not as happy, but happier. Danquo, the father of kings, but nary a crown for himself.' There, did I say it right?"  
The Elder shot her a glare before crying "Heed!" And, with that, all three witches disappeared into the mists of the heath.  
Macbeth and Danquo looked at each other. "So… what do you think that meant?" asked Danquo. Macbeth opened his mouth to speak when they heard another voice coming from over the hill.  
"MACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETHMACBETH!" A boy appeared, awkwardly running down the slope of the hill towards them.  
"'Tis Marcross," said Macbeth. He and Danquo both mouthed "Oh no" at each other as Marcross ran up.  
Panting and wheezing, Marcoss gasped out "Macbeth, the… the Thane of Cawdor was just imprisoned for treason. You're… you're the new Thane. Whew!"  
Macbeth stared at the horizon, eyes distant. "Thane of Cawdor… just as the weird sisters hath spoke!" And, though now one else could tell, his mind now turned towards the witches' second prophecy…  
________________________________________  
The banquet was glorious. The lords ate greedily, drank deeply, and bellowed jovially and loudly. The dining hall was alive with merriment.  
Amidst the celebrating, King Hector stood up clapped his hands. All the lords quieted down.  
King Hector said "This is some banquet, huh?" Cheers and huzzahs were his reply. "Well, I just wanna thank my buddy Macbeth for hosting it, and letting me crash at his place tonight. He's been one of my greatest generals, and it's my honor to be his king." He raised his goblet. "To Macbeth!"  
Macbeth smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. The other lords, not noticing, all raised their goblets along with the king and chorused "TO MACBETH!"  
________________________________________  
"For truth, wife, my heart feels vexed to think of such vile deeds done by mine own hands."  
Macbeth's wife, Annie Macbeth, glared at him. It was just like him to come up with this plan with her, but chicken out when rubber met the road. "Oh, come on, Mac. This was your idea, don't you forget. We'll get the chamberlains drunk, they'll pass out, and tomorrow we'll blame them for the murder."  
"Aye, but-"  
"No buts. Go."  
She watched as Macbeth, knife in hand, slowly opened the door and left the room. She shook her head. He came up with a plan to get power, but chickened out as soon as the wood met the road. She should have married Danquo.  
________________________________________  
Macbeth held both the knife and his breath. King Hector's chamber door was right ahead of him. His hands shook slightly. As something shimmered in the moonlight before him, he blinked. "Is this a dagger I see before me?"  
He blinked again. "…ah, nay, just a moonlit moth. Mind it not."  
He carefully pushed open the door and entered the bedchamber. He saw King Hector, sleeping peacefully in the bed Macbeth had provided for him. He took a deep breath. Steadied his hands. Raised the knife. Closed his eyes. Brought it down.  
There was barely a sound. But he felt King Hector's warm blood.  
________________________________________  
Macbeth stumbled into his bedroom. Annie was waiting for him. "Did you do it?"  
Macbeth nodded. "The king's blood, still ripe with life stolen, rests upon my hands and dagger."  
"Great." She took the knife. "I'll take care of the rest. Just go with the plan, and we'll be on the royal thrones in no time."  
________________________________________  
Two people stood in the hallway. One was Macduff, the loyal Thane of Fife. The other was Jessica, King Hector's sister. Macduff looked at her sadly as she wiped her eyes. "My lady, my condolences cannot be expressed with mere mortal tongue."  
Jessica sniffled. "Thanks, Macduff. Who did it?"  
"T'was two of Macbeth's own servants. But he has murdered them for grief and rage from the king's blood on their hands." He lowered his voice. "But methinks that they were mere pawns."  
Jessica wiped her eyes. "You-you mean you think someone hired them to do it?"  
"Indeed and that same knave might put his designs on you next."  
Jessica thought for a moment. Then she nodded. "You might be right. I need to get out of here until I can figure out a plan."  
Macduff nodded. "May the fates grant you the fairest fortune, my lady."  
Jessica thanked him, and quickly left.  
________________________________________  
Danquo lay in his bed, thinking. It had been a nice ceremony, no doubt about that. Macbeth had definitely fit the image of a kingly figure, standing there in his crown. With Jessica having fled the country, Macbeth had taken on the throne as one of King Hector's closest kinsman.  
But Danquo remembered the witches' prophecy. They had told Macbeth that he would be king, but told Danquo that it would be his descendants that ruled. The whole thing mad Danquo suspicious. He turned over to try and sleep.  
________________________________________  
Macbeth glared at the hired assassins. "Explain, knaves, what meaning lies behind the serpentine phrase 'sort of got them'? And make haste with thine clarification, or any wistfulnesses thou hast for the dungeon will be surely healed!"  
The disgraced Mandonwald, and his robot beside him, cowered before their new employer. "We-we got Danquo, we got him real good! But his son, Keance… got away. But we can take care of it! We'll find him! Pleeeeeeeeeeeease don't throw us back in the dungeon!"  
But the please went unheeded. Macbeth yelled several Shakespearian curses at them, called for the guards, and had them dragged away. After they were gone, he paced.  
This was bad. Danquo's heir lived. Macbeth could not let any descendants of Danquo on the throne, he HAD to prevent the witches' prophecy from coming true. He would find other assassins, better ones, to track down and finish off Keance.  
But for now, Macbeth had a banquet to host.  
________________________________________  
Macbeth raised his glass. "To Danquo, friends, may his memory live ever on and the foul doers of his death be caught! We shall feast in his name."  
The lords at the banquet all raised their goblets and drank. They were sad about Danquo's mysterious murder, but not sad enough to avoid partying.  
Macbeth smiled as he looked around. A large banquet, all the lords of Scotland, and it was all his, it was…  
Macbeth's blood ran cold. A ghostly figure stood by the table. Danquo.  
All the color drained from Macbeth's face as he gaped in horror. Danquo's ghost looked right at him, fury in its eyes.  
Danquo pointed right at Macbeth and bellowed, in a ghostly voice, "MACBETH! How DARE you murder me!? ME! YOUR BEST FRIEND! I will NEVER forget this! Maybe I should just HAUNT you for the rest of your DAYS, huh?"  
Macbeth slowly backed away. "Fly, fly apparition! Away! Haunt not mine eyes!"  
All the lords had stopped and stared. They watched King Macbeth yell at an empty space in terror. They whispered amongst each other, confused.  
With a howl that was a mix of terror and anger, Macbeth finally charged the apparition. He ran through it and crashed into the wall, thrashing and clawing wildly at nothing.  
At this point, Lady Annie jumped up from her seat and exclaimed "Okay, it, uh, it looks like His Majesty has a sudden malady! But don't worry, I'm sure it will be gone in a few days! In the meantime, uh, maybe it'd be best if you all leave! Don't worry! He'll be back to normal soon!"  
Annie hurriedly ushered the confused and uneasy guests out of the castle. Then she ran over to Macbeth, who sat slumped against the wall, panting. She grabbed him by his collar and yanked him to his feet. "What's the matter with you?!"  
Macbeth looked up at her, his eyes wide. "My lady, there are three witches which I must make haste to see."  
________________________________________  
The witches watched as Macbeth staggered away from them, overwhelmed by the visions they had just shown him.  
Francine puffed herself up with pride. "Weeeeeell, I don't know about you two, but I did a fantastic job there. That kid with the branch and the crown? That was mine. Inspired, if I do say so myself."  
Lisa cleared her throat. "We all did good, Francine."  
The Elder witch rolled her eyes at both of them. Of all the rookie witches to get stuck with…  
As Macbeth stumbled away from the witches' heath, one thought stood out in his mind: the spirits had told him to beware Macduff. He would make sure that Macduff would be a threat no longer.  
________________________________________  
Far away, in England, Macduff himself was talking to Jessica. After being suspicious of Macbeth, and fearing that his suspicions would place him in danger, he had fled to England just as Jessica had done. The two had met, and compared their suspicions, and agreed that Macbeth was guilty.  
Jessica was saying "So, the army is almost ready. In a couple days we'll march back to Scotland and overthrow Macbeth."  
Macduff nodded. "May this boldest of endeavors prove fruitful, my lady."  
Suddenly, they heard a loud voice, crying "MACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFFMACDUFF!"  
"'Tis Marcross, the messenger," said Macduff. He and Jessica mouthed "Oh no," to each other as Marcross ran up.  
"I came all the way from Scotland to find you. Assassins attacked your home! They killed your wife, your kids, and all of your servants. There were no survivors."  
Macduff's face paled. Then he looked down and closed his eyes, saying nothing. Jessica put her hand on his shoulder.  
Marcross held up his hand. "Also, look at this weird rock I found on the way over here! Look at the funny stripe on it! Isn't it neat? Huh? Isn't it neat?" He bobbed up and down excitedly. "Oh, yeah, sorry your family was killed and stuff."  
Jessica glared at him. "I think you should go now, Marcross."  
"Um… don't I get a tip for coming all this way?"  
"GO!"  
Marcross scampered away. Macduff took a deep breath and looked up. His eyes were glistening. "My lady… if the question on my lips is of no impudence… is there yet any room left for another lord in your army?"  
________________________________________  
Lady Annie feverishly scrubbed her hands, as if in a trance. She was muttering to herself.  
The only witness to Annie's insanity was Marcross, he had gotten back to Scotland just in time to see it. He peered at her from around a corner, wide-eyed.  
Trying to clean something that only she could see off of her hands, Annie cried out in fury. "Out! OUT! Damned spot!"  
Marcross pointed. "OOOOOOOOOH! Potty mouth! Potty mouth!"  
Annie whirled around and shrieked at him "Shut the hell up!"  
"DOUBLE potty mouth! DOUBLE potty mouth!"  
Annie ran at him.  
Marcross screamed and ran away to tell all of Scotland that Queen Annie was insane and a potty mouth.  
________________________________________  
Macbeth sat on the Royal Throne, decidedly less happy than he had thought he'd be sitting on the Royal Throne.  
He was unhappy because he was nervous about the witches' prophecy. Granted, his wife having recently hung herself wasn't very cheery either, but it was mostly the witches' prophecy.  
When the witches had shown him the spirits, one of the things he'd heard was that he would be safe until Great Birnam Wood came to his castle on Dunsinane Hill.  
This shouldn't have worried Macbeth. After all, surely forests couldn't move? He had nothing to fear.  
…and yet, he was afraid.  
He glanced apprehensively out the castle window, where he could see the forest blanketing out to the horizon.  
He blinked.  
The trees at the edge of the forest were moving closer.  
He blinked again. It had to be a trick of the eyes. It had to be. The forest couldn't be moving. But it was. He could see the front-most trees approaching the hill.  
Macbeth leaped off of his throne and yelled for the guards.  
________________________________________  
Macduff peered out from behind the tree branch he was holding in front of him. "I must confess, my lady, a more cunning invention I ne'er heard the likes of."  
"Thanks." Jessica looked around her own branch. "Okay, when I give the signal, tell the men to charge the castle. They might have seen us by now, but the advantage is still ours."  
Silence.  
"Okay… now! Now!"  
With a great cry of "FOR HECTOR!" Jessica's army surged out from their tree camouflage and charged Dunsinane Hill.  
________________________________________  
The battle was short, but bloody. Jessica and Macduff fought well, and so did Macbeth. Marcross watched it all from behind a rock, eyes as big as saucers.  
He watched as Macbeth and Macduff faced off by the castle door. He watched as their blades clashes, and they said things he couldn't hear. And finally, he watched as Macduff cut off Macbeth's head and held it up for all to see, blood from the neck staining the grass below.  
Marcross threw up, said "Cool!" and threw up again.  
________________________________________  
And so, the battle was over. Jessica and Macduff had won. Jessica was crowned Queen of Scotland. Macduff had avenged his family. And, incidentally, he and Jessica eventually got married, making him the king. Jessica was still the one in charge, though, she was by far the best ruler Scotland had ever had so far. And the only woman one. Make of that what you will.  
On a hill, not far from Dunsinane Castle, a tall boy and a shorter girl sat on a hillside. The boy smiled and took a deep breath. "Ahhh, smell that air. I love old-timey Scotland. So glad I decided to set this story here."  
The girl looked at him. "There's one thing I still don't get: if Jessica became queen, what was all that stuff about Danquo's heirs being on the throne?"  
The boy puffed himself smugly. "Well, if you were familiar with Scottish legend, you'd know that James VI, a Scottish king, was supposedly descended from Danquo- er, Banquo, through his surviving son."  
"Oh, yeah. Keith didn't have much to do in this story, did he?"  
"Well, I'm sure he will in some other one," replied the boy, not looking like he cared much.  
The girl continued "Also, I didn't really see Jessica and Macduff getting together coming."  
"Really? I thought they had good chemistry."  
"Hmm. Well, it's your story."  
And so, this story ended, but the adventure was just beginning.  
The ten teenagers were spat out of the book.  
“Oh my god, that was awesome!” Marcus shouted.  
“I got murdered!” Hector gasped.  
“So did I!” Danny also shouted.  
“Wait,” Keith said, cutting off all of the shouting, “Was that book open before?”  
He was referring to a rather large novel sitting open on a podium.  
“I don’t think so,” Gilda admitted.  
“Should we investigate?” Lisa asked.  
Bickering ensued, mainly from Francine, who just wanted to go home.  
“Look, there’s a flood warning right now,” Keith said, “We can’t just leave. So why not figure out why we’re here?”  
“Alright,” Danny conceded.  
“Yeah, I’m game,” Annie agreed, walking over to the novel and placing her hand on it.  
The Bennet household was always one filled with intense emotions, but never was that statement more true than when Mr. Hector Bingley moved to a nearby house and created the stir of the century… at least that was how it seemed from the inside. Mrs. Bennet had been fussing for her girls to start considering marriage for years now, and was thrilled that her oldest daughter, Lisa, was getting along so well with Mr. Bingley. Yet her anxiety was high every time he was nearby, much to the amusement of her husband. Lisa’s younger sisters Francine and Gilda would frequently dream up what Lisa’s wedding was going to be like, causing the eldest sister to constantly blush.  
“At least these two have proper priorities,” Mrs. Bennet defended one night after Lisa begged them to stop, “After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.”  
“Or perhaps he’s a murderer,” middle child Jessica mused, not looking up from her book.  
To say the least, Mrs. Bennet was not pleased. So now, Annie Bennet had successfully run off without being noticed only for it to begin to rain.  
“Splendid,” she muttered bitterly, “Absolutely splendid.”  
“Miss Bennet!” a distant voice called, “Miss Bennet!”  
With some difficulty, she managed to identify a distant figure running towards her. It was none other than Fitzwilliam Danny. Her feelings towards him were… mixed to say the least. True, he was pompous, egotistical, and easily offended by even the slightest straying from decorum. However, he was also a friend to Mr. Bingley, so surely he could not be as terrible as their first few encounters would have led her to belive?  
“Miss Bennet!” he panted, having finally reached her. Ankle deep in mud and soaked to the bone, he hardly looked like the prim and proper gentleman she had first met.  
“Miss Bennet, I have spent far more time than I care to admit deliberating about what I am about to do,” he informed her. His gaze was not breaking from hers, and she felt as though the intensity of that gaze might cause her head to combust. “For the grievances I have are not with you but with your family and their ridiculous behavior. However, I will bravely stomach their insufferable actions if it means that you will be my wife.”  
There was a pause.  
“What sort of a proposal is that? You do not get to insult a person’s family and expect them to say yes to your hand in marriage!”  
“Well, excuse me for not being thrilled about the concept of having a sister-in-law like Francine.”  
“Shut up, Danny!”  
“How dare you!”  
“I’ll dare what I want! You’re being a jerk!”  
“I am not the jerk here; you are the jerk in this situation!”  
“Oh, come on! In what way am I the-“

In the library, a short girl was combing through the shelves.  
“Ah, here it is,” she muttered, pulling a huge volume off the shelf, “How do you think this one will pan out?”  
“I’m not sure,” a tall boy said as he stood up from the armchair he’d been resting in, “But I know it’ll be good.”  
Together, they opened the book and disappeared just as several other people appeared.  
“Seriously, who keeps leaving out all these books?” Manny asked, growing frustrated at how long this was taking. He had left Little Mean Robot at home, and his best friend got scared if he was alone for too long!  
“Only one way to find out,” Gilda reasoned.  
Bitterly, Manny snatched the next book off the ground, not even noticing the familiar title.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry Potter

"Wake up, Potter! We're going to the zoo!"  
Dust and tiny wood chips fell onto Harry's face as Manny jumped up and down on the stairs over Harry's cupboard. He heard Manny's voice accompanied by that of his robot's. "Wake up. Pot-ter. We are going. To the zoo."  
Cousin Manny was a greedy bully, but he was good with electronics. Not that he'd ever let Harry play with Little Mean Robot, of course.  
"C'mon, kid, we're hungry," called Uncle Vernon.  
Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. He shook off the memories of the weird dream he'd been having, where Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had been British like Harry instead of American, and they'd lived in Little Whinging instead of New York, and instead of Manny they'd had a kid named Dudley, and they're last name had been Dursley instead of Spamboni…  
Brushing aside a cobweb, Harry put on his glasses and went to make the Spambonis breakfast. Manny always liked to get to the zoo early, so he could wake up the animals with lots of obnoxious noise.  
________________________________________  
Pound. Pound Pound.  
Harry and the Spambonis cowered in the corner as the pounding on the door continued.  
Finally, the door was knocked down with a loud thud. Standing there was an extremely tall man with a long, brown beard.  
"Hello, Harry," he said, looking directly at Harry.  
Harry gaped. "Wh-who are you?"  
The man held out his hand and shook Harry's. "I'm Shogrid. And you haven't been getting our letters, have you?"  
Harry, confused, shook his head. Shogrid glared at the Spambonis. Manny tried, unsuccessfully, to hide behind his mother, clutching his robot like it was a weapon.  
Vernon, trying to sound tough even though his voice was cracking, said,"We-we swore we'd put a stop to all that freak stuff when we took him in!"  
Shogrid shook his head and put his arm around Harry's shoulders kindly. "Come with me. We have a lot to talk about."  
As they left, Harry had the strangest feeling that he was finally going home.  
________________________________________  
Shogrid led Harry into yet another shop in Diagon Alley. It was all so incredible to Harry, first meeting Shogrid, then being told he was a wizard, being told his parents were wizards and had been killed by an evil wizard called Voldemort (but wizards never said his name if they could avoid it), then coming to this magical place to buy supplies for wizard school called Hogwarts. Shogrid was the school's resident gamekeeper, though he also brewed tasty potions and was quite good at magical beatboxing (which, to be brutally honest, wasn't that different from regular beatboxing).  
Shogrid checked the list. "Okay, so we have your wand, books, quills, robes… now all you need is a pet." Harry looked around the shop and saw cages filled with all sorts of animals.  
Shogrid continued. "You can have a cat, a toad, an owl… or a gorilla."  
Harry's eyes widened. "A gorilla?"  
The young wizard behind the counter said "Well, we only have the one, but nobody seems to want him, poor guy. His name is Paul. But hey, if you buy him, we'll throw in a free Size-Changing PowderTM- you know, to make him more portable for school. But, if you're a first-year, then it might be a bit too much, so it's perfectly fine if you don't buy him."  
Harry had stopped listening at this point, an excited look on his face. "I'll take him!"  
From the big cage in the corner, the Paul the Gorilla grunted happily.  
________________________________________  
As Harry and a crowd of students approached the entrance of the Hogwarts International School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he took stock: on the train to the school, he'd made five friends and two enemies. More friends than enemies, so that was good.  
The first friends he'd made had been the Weasley siblings, Hector and Jessica. They both had red hair, Hector's far more meticulously combed than Jessica's was. They had offered him a place to sit when he was having trouble finding one. They were both very friendly and adventurous. Then there was Lisa Lovegood, who came to join them and almost sat on tiny Paul. She had apologized profusely, and said Paul was cute, and just like that, Harry made another friend.  
The four of them were then joined by another, one Keith Shacklebolt. His father was Leo Shacklebolt, a famous Auror (whatever that was). "Not that I ever brag about it," Keith had told Harry, after bragging about it.  
Finally, just when Harry was feeling elated for making more friends in nine minutes then he had in his whole life, a short girl with big glasses had poked her head into their car and asked if she could sit with them.  
"There's this blonde older girl that keeps trying to boss me around," she'd explained. After they'd welcomed her, she'd said her name was Gilda Granger, and she was a first year student like Harry.  
After making five new friends, the world seemed to have lost no time in giving Harry enemies. The first was a blonde girl apparently named Francine Malfoy, and came from a very wealthy wizarding family. She'd come to their car trying to find her "new mudblood servant" (Gilda).  
When Francine saw Harry, she recognized him from the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. When she saw that she was sitting with Gilda and the Weasleys, she was unimpressed.  
"Watch yourself, Potter," she'd said, "you don't wanna get tangled up with the wrong sorts of wizards." She'd then turned and strutted away.  
The Weasleys and the others told Harry to just ignore her. Harry had made his next enemy when a boy named Danny Longbottom had come into their carriage and had brought his toad.  
But then, out of nowhere, Danny had yelled "Hey! Why are you breathing in that MOCKING way? Is it my toad? Are you making fun of my toad!? WHY IS EVERYONE MEAN TO ME!? YOU'LL ALL PAY FOR THIS!" and had stormed away, leaving Harry dumbfounded.  
And so, that was all the new friends and enemies Harry had made so far, and he hadn't even started school yet. He really hadn't meant to do anything to offend Danny Longbottom, but Danny had exploded at him anyway. Some people were just overly sensitive, he supposed.  
He looked around in wonder as they entered all entered the gigantic castle that was Hogwarts.  
________________________________________  
The Sorting was about to begin. Harry wondered what school house he would be sorted into. He looked around at the house tables for anyone he recognized. He saw Hector, Jessica, and Keith at the Gryffindor table, Lisa at Hufflepuff, and Francine and Danny in Slytherin.  
He watched as Gilda, looking nervous, stepped up and put on the Sorting Hat. "RAVENCLAW!" it cried.  
Gilda looked relieved that it was over as she was welcomed to the Ravenclaw table. A few first years later, and it was Harry's turn. The hat, who informed him that it liked to be called Bob and used to be part of a race car, took a minute to make up which house to put him in. Finally, it exclaimed "GRYFFINDOR!"  
Relieved, Harry went to the table with the cheering Gryffindors. Hector high-fived him, and Jess clapped him on the shoulder. Lisa shot him a thumbs-up from the Hufflepuff table, and Gilda gave him a shy smile.  
After all the first years had been sorted, an old man in decorative robes stood up.  
Jessica leaned over and whispered to Harry "That's Sigmund Dumbledore. He's the headmaster. Everyone says he's the greatest wizard of all time …except for the Great Calvero, of course."  
"Who?" Harry asked. Keith shushed him.  
Sigmund Dumbledore cleared his throat and said "Welcome, everyone, to the Hogwarts International School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before you begin, I would like to say a few words: nitwit, blubber, oddment, hypnotism, and tweak."  
Everyone laughed.  
He continued "Those are your five words. Watch out for them in today's show!"  
Everyone muttered confusedly.  
Dumbledore coughed. "Oh, sorry. Wrong speech. Anyway, bon appetite!"  
As he sat back down, plates of food appeared before all the students.  
His nervousness fading, Harry began to eat. He found himself looking forward to his new life as a Hogwarts student.  
________________________________________  
It took a little while, but Harry got used to things. His classes were Transfiguration, taught by the firm but fair Professor McGonagall and head of Gryffindor house. He also took Charms, taught by Professor Flitwick, who was a funny little grey man with a huge afro who liked to sing the incantations. History of Magic was taught by an enthusiastic ghost named Dax who wore an odd necklace. In the greenhouses, he took Herbology, taught by Professor Sprout. Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by Professor Bowser, who claimed to be a human wizard but looked a lot like a robotic blue dog. Apparently it had been a defensive spell that had backfired; whenever anybody asked about it, Bowser got a faraway look in his eyes. He often taught of different methods of escaping magical traps. But the worst was Potions, taught by Professor Snape. It seemed like Snape always had it out for Harry, though Harry didn't know why. He wasn't very nice to anyone else, either except members of Slytherin, his own house.  
Harry slept in the Gryffindor house with several other students, including the Weasleys and Keith. Even though Lisa and Gilda were in other houses, they all hung out so much she might as well have been in Gryffindor. Lisa was always great for Harry to talk to when he needed a boost of positivity. Gilda was a bookworm, and a bit of a pushover, but she was smart and nice. She and Harry often talked and did homework together.  
During free hours, when he wasn't hanging around with his friends in school, Harry sometimes went down and talked to Shogrid. Sometimes he would just walk around the castle, exploring all the rooms and corridors. Sometimes he'd run into Wiki Wiki Nearly-Headless Nicky, one of Hogwarts's more famous ghosts. And sometimes he'd just get lost. The staircases in Hogwarts often shifted and moved.  
It was crazy, chaotic, and head-spinning. And Harry loved it all.  
________________________________________  
One afternoon, Harry, the Weasley siblings, Keith, Lisa, and Gilda were all sitting in the library during study hour, talking and laughing and just having fun. Jessica had just finished telling them all a story about how Fred and George, two of her and Hector's older siblings, had once pranked him by hiding a big beetle in his underwear drawer. They had thought it was uproariously funny. Hector hadn't.  
Keith looked up, then whispered "Heads up. Snape's walking this way."  
Gilda buried her face in her book as Snape walked by, giving them all the evil eye.  
In his cold voice he said "I trust you are all behaving yourselves… especially you, Mister Potter."  
Harry nodded, trying not to get angry. Why did Snape always single him out? Snape glared at them all a little more, then turned and walked away.  
Everyone released their breaths.  
"Man, what is with that guy?" Keith wondered aloud.  
Lisa looked thoughtful. "You know, I think maybe he just needs more people to be nice to him."  
Everyone looked at her like she was crazy. She looked around. "Well, have any of you tried it?"  
She had them there. She crossed her arms defiantly. "Well, I'm going to do something nice for him. Maybe that will change his attitude." And with that, she got up and walked off. The others stared after her, apprehensive.  
A little while later, Snape was sitting in his classroom between classes, writing something down. He heard footsteps, and looked up to see Lisa approaching him, carrying a pot with a large plant in it.  
He raised an eyebrow as she set it on his desk.  
"Hi, Professor Snape."  
He looked at her coolly. "I don't know what you want, Miss Lovegood, but I'm very busy at the moment and don't have time for… you."  
Lisa turned red. "Excuse me, I thought now would be a good time. I just wanted to say… thank you for being our teacher. Here, I brought you a little something to show all of our appreciation."  
Snape's face wasn't exactly the picture of enthusiasm. "You did, did you?"  
She gestured to the plant. "I got it from Professor Sprout's greenhouse, she said she had plenty."  
Snape looked at her. "Do you know what type of plant this is?"  
"Professor Sprout said it was a Tellorian Darkvore, sir."  
Snape started to back away. "Exactly. A Tellorain Darkvore, which usually remains dormant and lovely, but in the presence of someone with black hair-"  
Suddenly, one of the plant's leaves opened to reveal a fanged mouth. It shot forward, out of the pot, and bit Snape on the stomach.  
Yelling, Snape ran out of the room and down the corridor, the plant hopping along after him and viciously snapping at him. Lisa just stood there, mouth covered in horror.  
After Snape got out of the hospital wing, he gave Lisa two months of detention. But, as she told the others, she had tried her best, and that was what counted.  
________________________________________  
Elsewhere, in a deep, dark place far beyond where most humans dared tread, things were happening. Evil things.  
Being a deep, dark place far beyond where most humans dared tread, of course the things that were happening there were evil.  
Annie Lestrange, her dark hair a mess, looked down at the skeletal form below her, lying splayed out on the dirt. The form of Lord Voldemort.  
Annie watched eagerly, almost not daring to breathe. Come on, come on... she thought desperately.  
And then –there! The Dark Lord's face shifted slightly, raspy breath started to drift from him. His eyelids slowly crept open.  
A hoarse, cold voice. "Annie…?" the Dark Lord hissed. His red eyes looked up at her. "…explain."  
Annie grinned. "My lord… I've brought you back. I've given you your body again!"  
"…impossible."  
"Feel it, my lord, feel yourself. I've really returned you."  
Trembling, heaving, Voldemort slowly began to pull himself up. Annie went to help him, but he pushed her away.  
When he made himself fully stand, Annie gave him a dark robe, and he draped it around his shoulders. He eyed Annie. "How?"  
"Well, I-I was in Azkaban, but I escaped, and went out to find you and bring you fully back. I was prepared to take your mind into my form, but I knew you would prefer your own. It took me years, but I was able to create a potion… none existed, but I scrambled the ingredients I thought would work until… it did."  
Voldemort said nothing for a moment.  
"And Harry Potter?"  
Annie smiled wickedly. "He's at Hogwarts now. My spies told me."  
She handed something to Voldemort. "Here, your wand."  
Voldemort looked at the wand in his hand as if it was a foreign object. Then, he pointed it towards the sky, and a geyser if blood-red light flew out of it, turning the whole forest a sinister ruby color.  
Annie laughed in delight.  
Lord Voldemort was back.  
________________________________________

Down in the Hogwarts kitchens, the house-elves merrily prepared breakfast. The house-elves of Hogwarts lived for making food and watching students consume it; it was their purpose.  
One such house elf was a youngster named Marcus. He worked on his own little table away from the others, because even the other house-elves got annoyed with him and his loud tangeants. Before coming to Hogwarts, he used to be the servant of an old, refined witch, but she'd given him a glove and removed him because he was apparently so loud she couldn't hear her opera records.  
As Marcus fooled around with some kappa sauce, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see a tall boy and a shorter girl. The boy bent over and whispered "Hey, little house-elf kid. Wanna help us out?"  
Marcus's eyes widened in excitement. "Oh, yes! It would be Marcus's pleasure to help sir and madam!"  
The boy nodded. "Great. You've gonna be a hero, kid!"  
"Marcus? A hero?!"  
"Yeah." The boy handed Marcus a parchment with some writing on it. "Here's a list of objects and where to find them. Once you find them, you need to destroy them. Then bring the pieces back here. We'll tell you what to do next."  
Marcus jumped up and down gleefully. Marcus will do it all, sir and madam! Marcus won't let you down!" He took off out of the kitchen.  
"Marcus, wait!" cried the boy.  
Marcus peaked his head back in the room. "Yes?"  
"You forgot the list."  
"Oh. Marcus sheepishly came back, took the list, then ran out of the room again, leaving the boy and girl alone with the other house-elves.  
The girl looked at the boy. "How come I didn't get to say anything?"  
The boy looked smug. "Because it's my story. Besides, you got to say something just now."  
"Oh yeah, I guess I did."  
"…and you just did again."  
________________________________________  
Professor McGonagall repeated "All right, try it again. Remember, picture the candle in your mind's eye."  
Harry looked around at his fellow students. He'd managed to transfigure the rolled-up newspaper into a candlestick fairly quickly, but some of the others were having trouble. Danny Longbottom's newspaper had exploded, which was followed by him claiming that his wand was defective, or the paper was, or both.  
Keith was having trouble too. He seemed to be able to turn the newspaper into anything but a candlestick. He waved his wand and concentrated.  
Whipsh!  
It was a toy car.  
Whipsh!  
It was a turtle.  
Whipsh!  
A clock.  
Whipsh!  
A potted flower.  
Whipsh!  
A big spider.  
Hector jumped and hid behind Jessica. He hated bugs, especially spiders.  
Whipsh!  
A glass eye.  
Whipsh!  
A half-eaten donut.  
Whipsh!  
A Dalek. "EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"  
Everyone ran out of the classroom as the Dalek chased after them.  
________________________________________  
Lord Voldemort sat at the head of the table in Malfoy Manor.  
He looked around at his reunited Death Eaters. He stroked Nagini.  
"Everything, at long last, is falling into place. We begin out assault on Hogwarts in two days' time." His mouth twisted into a mirthless grin. "I look forward to visiting my old school again."  
Lucius Malfoy quietly cleared his throat. Voldemort waved his hand dismissively.  
"Yes, yes, Lucius, your daughter will not be harmed. Lord Voldemort remembers to reward faithful servants."  
Lucius looked relieved. Voldemort continued "Our time is at hand. The wizarding world will not be prepared. We will fall upon them and take them, starting with the school. I, and the chosen few, will control undisputed."  
From her seat, Annie simpered.  
"And Harry Potter…" Voldemort had a far-away look in his eyes. "…Harry Potter will not escape me again."  
________________________________________  
Shogrid was watering his pumpkins, beatboxing under his breath with a content look on his face.He heard Fang barking loudly, and glanced up to see what that dog was making a fuss about. His face darkened.  
Everyone was eating lunch in the Great Hall when the doors burst open. Shogrid ran in, looking wild. "Death Eaters!" he cried "An army of them! Headed for the school!"  
There was dead silence for a moment. Then everyone started to talk and panic. "Death Eaters?" asked Snape. "Impossible," breathed McGonagall.  
"We must all remain calm," said Sigmund Dumbledore. "Teachers come with me up to the tower, maybe we can get a view of this. Head Students, please lead your houses back to your dormitories."  
The teachers all left behind Dumbledore, and the students hurriedly exited the Great Hall. Everyone was pale and shaking. Harry felt sick. Death Eaters. Followers of Voldemort.  
He asked Hector, who was Head Boy of Gryffindor, "Do-Do you think it could be true?"  
Hector's brows were furrowed. "I don't know, Harry." He glanced over at Lisa in line with the Hufflepuffs and mouthed It'll be okay.  
A few minutes later, they were all in the Gryffindor common room, sitting or anxiously pacing about. When the portrait hole creaked open, they all jumped, but it was only Professor McGonagall.  
"Mister Potter," she said, looking very shaken, "come with me, please."  
All eyes were on Harry as he followed McGonagall out of the common room. She led him through the twisting corridors and stairs to Dumbledore's. They entered to find Dumbledore and all the teachers.  
Dumbledore looked at Harry and said "Shogrid was correct. There are many wizards in Death Eater garb coming towards the school, and… it appears that Lord Voldemort is among them.  
It felt like Harry had had all the wind knocked out of him. "But… but he's dead!"  
Dumbledore shook his head. "No, he was never dead, just merely in a disembodied, immaterial form. Too faint to do anything, but it seems his followers have found a way to let him fully return. Now he is attacking the school… and quite possibly looking for you, Harry."  
Harry felt sick again. Dumbledore turned to the teachers. "Severus, Pomona, please alert the Ministry of Magic immediately. The rest of us must do everything we can to protect Hogwarts." McGonagall nodded. Shogrid clenched his umbrella. Professor Bowser's eyes narrowed as he smacked his fists together.  
Dumbledore continued "Now, as for you Harry, we must…"  
His voice trailed off. Everyone else turned to see what he was looking at.  
Harry was gone.  
________________________________________  
He's after me. Whatever I did when I was a baby, that blasted his spell back at him. I'll go and tell him… tell him that I'll come with him if he leaves Hogwarts alone. No, I'll… I'll tell him how I did it. Yes. I'll make something up, something that'll sound magical. If nothing else, it'll buy the others time…  
These were Harry's thoughts as he crept across the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest. He glanced around quickly. He was alone. Good. If anyone else saw him, they would try to stop him, because they were his friends. However, it was also because they were his friends that he had to do this.  
The sun was just beginning to lower towards the horizon as Harry made his way between the trees. Its light was filtered green through the leaves. Though Harry heard the occasional distant cry of some weird creature, he saw nothing moving, not even any insects. It was like the calm before the storm.  
He saw a faint, flickering glow coming from deeper in the forest. It must've been coming from the Death Eaters' camp. Harry swallowed and started towards it.  
________________________________________  
The Death Eaters were all clustered around the campfire, uneasy. They were waiting for the Dark Lord to give the order to attack. He was silent and brooding. A rather foolish Death Eater had asked him why the Potter boy was so important, and, one flash of green light later, had shut up.  
Lucius Malfoy was hiding how nervous he felt. It was good to be at the Dark Lord's side once more, but he hoped that Francine would get out of the imminent battle unharmed.  
At the edge of the clearing, bushes rustled. All eyes swiveled towards them.  
And there, facing an army of some of the most powerful wizards the world had ever known, was the Boy Who Lived.  
Voldemort stood. He looked into Harry's eyes. Harry looked into his. Slowly, silently, they both walked closer to each other.  
Voldemort spoke first. "I must confess, boy, you are… brave. Or are you foolish? However, I suppose the two are not so different.”  
The Death Eaters watched them, transfixed. Annie held her breath.  
Harry nodded, not daring to say anything for fear that if he opened his mouth, he would throw up.  
"I must confess, I had not expected this from a boy of a mere eleven years. But, I thank you. It will save me time."  
Harry had to speak now. "If y-you don't hurt anyone in the school, I-I'll tell you how I defeated you before."  
Voldemort laughed, a cruel, cold sound. "Do you take Lord Voldemort for a fool, boy? He realized how it happened long ago. It was your mother's pathetic love for you that saved you. Very sweet, of course, but she's not here now, is she?"  
Voldemort raised his wand and pointed it at Harry. As he did so, he spoke. "It was not supposed to be like this, boy. I know it. Things were supposed to be different, people around us were supposed to be different. Other things, other forces, have changed our lives. Everything is not what it was meant to be."  
He stepped closer. "But, no matter how much the story changes, we must still face each other in the end. That, Potter, will always be our destiny." His mouth twisted into a sneer. "Just as it is you destiny to now die." He sneered, and his mouth started to form the killing incantation…  
At that very moment, Marcus came bursting into the clearing, lugging a huge pile of things. With a mile-wide grin, he threw it all to the ground and looked around at the crowd excitedly.  
Voldemort and Harry both stared.  
Marcus pointed at the pile of things that he'd put on the ground. "See? See? Marcus got everything on the list! He found and destroyed all of it!"  
Voldemort looked. Then his eyes widened in understanding. He screamed in fury and pointed his wand right at Marcus. "My Horcruxes! How dare you little-"  
Light flew out from Voldemort's wand, headed right for Marcus's heart, and would have hit it if Harry hadn't leaped in the way and taken the full blast.  
Harry heard shouting and voices, but they grew fainter and distant as his vision blurred and darkened…  
________________________________________  
When Harry opened his eyes, he was in a world of fog. Standing above him, he saw a tall teenage boy and a shorter teenage girl.  
"Where… where am I?"  
The boy said "Kid, we don't have much time, so let's make this quick. Those things that house-elf was carrying were Horcruxes, things that kept Voldemort from fully dying. We had Marcus destroy them all, but he accidentally made you into a Horcrux too when he attacked you when you were a baby. So, the only way to make you, well, not into one was to hit you with a killing curse, which he did. So now, you can go back and destroy him once and for all. Good luck."  
Harry blinked. Something had just occurred to him. "Are… are you my parents?"  
The boy and the girl looked at each other. The boy said "Um… yeah. Yeah, we're your parents. But we gotta go now! Bye! We love you, we're so proud, et cetera!"  
Before Harry's eyes, the world began to blur again…  
“I don’t even have red hair,” the girl muttered.  
________________________________________  
Harry opened his eyes once more. He was back in the Forbidden Forest. Dazed, he sat up.  
He saw Voldemort getting up. He had been knocked down by the blast as well. Only a few seconds seemed to have past here since while Harry was… wherever that had been.  
He shakily stood up, catching Voldemort's attention as he did so. "Impossible," the dark lord hissed. The Death Eaters gaped.  
Voldemort's shock didn't last long. Aiming his wand at Harry once again, he said "Very well then, Potter. However many times as it takes."  
Then all Prankster Planet broke loose.  
Like a gigantic tidal wave, Harry's friends, students, and teachers of Hogwarts swept down into Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Voldemort's attention turned away from Harry to battle the newcomers.  
Harry, still slightly dizzy, fell down again as the battle raged around him. A hand came down and helped him up. It turned out to belong to Lisa. She hurriedly led Harry out of the fray, and wrapped him in a hug.  
"HarryHarryHarryohmygoodness are you okay?!"  
In spite of it all, Harry smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine." He looked back at the battle. He saw Voldemort battling Sigmund Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and man who must have been Leo Shacklebolt all at once. Then, he gasped as he saw something behind Voldemort. He crossed his fingers, and knowing how sensitive Lisa was, looked up and told her, "…you might want to cover your eyes right now."  
Lisa looked confused, but did as Harry suggested. Harry, on the other hand, watched as a certain tiny gorilla scurried up behind Voldemort. Voldemort was so preoccupied dueling the three powerful wizards that he didn't see Paul growing up to his full size right behind him... until it was too late.  
________________________________________  
After Voldemort was killed, the battle hadn't lasted long. Without their powerful leader, Annie Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy and all the other Death Eaters had been defeated by the Hogwarts and Ministry forces, and were taken off to Azkaban. Their death threats and screams for revenge were ignored.  
As everyone went to regroup back at the castle, Harry's friends surrounded him. Hector told him how brave he'd been, Jessica had told him how stupid and brave he'd been, Lisa expressed relief at how they were all okay, and Keith was asking everyone if they'd seen his father in action. Gilda and Shogrid didn't say anything, but Gilda kept giving Harry squeezing hugs, and Shogrid's eyes twinkled with pride for his little friend and kept saying how proud his parents would have been.  
It was all nice, and Harry was certainly relieved that he was even still alive to be with his friends, but what Harry really wanted to do was go back to Gryffindor house and have some quiet by himself. His friends seemed to guess what he needed, as when they got to the castle and everyone went to meet up and take stock in the Great Hall, Hector led Harry up to the common room. Standing in the doorway, he said "I'll be down the corridor. If you need anything, just call for me. You were a real hero today, Harry." He smiled, and closed the door.  
Harry collapsed into a chair by the fireplace. A hero? He didn't know about that. he was just glad that it was all over and his friends were all right.  
This year was completely mental, incredible, and beyond anything in my wildest dreams, he thought.  
I wonder what next year will be like?  
This time, when they popped back out in the library, everyone was frustrated.  
“What happens the next six years?”  
“Why am I the villain?”  
“I am not a Slytherin. I’m very offended by this!”  
“How come everybody else got to be a human?”  
“Where did Paul come from?”  
They were all too busy complaining to even notice the two strangers hiding behind a rather large bust of Calvero. Nor did they notice the boy throwing a book at Hector’s head until it was too late.  
“Well, that’s one way of doing it,” Annie muttered.  
“What book is it?” Keith asked, secretly hoping he could be the main character this time. Being a sidekick all the time was getting pretty old.  
“A Christmas Carol,” Hector read.  
“You’ll shoot your eye out!” Marcus shouted.  
“Wrong story, kid,” Danny informed the young Electric Company member, “But good try.”  
Jessica sighed. It showed how crazy of a day it was shaping up to be if the Pranksters were being friendly.  
“Are you guys ready?” she asked.  
After a few people confirmed, Hector opened the book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas Carol, Romeo and Juliet, and Epilogue

The cold streets of London were alive with merriment this late December afternoon. People weaved themselves into a tapestry of buying and selling in the marketplace, the sound of coins dropping into hands like merry little bells. And in the midst of the hustle and bustle, two young people stood near an apple cart. The girl stared down at the apples, her wide eyes suggesting worlds of knowledge.  
“Both Pranksters were dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.”  
“What the heck are you talking about?” her companion asked, startled.  
“I’m starting the story!” she explained, frustrated.  
“Well, do we have to start at the morbid part?”  
“Yes,” she said bluntly, “The register of their burials were signed by the clergyman , the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner.”  
“I’m skipping to a more exciting part,” the younger of the two said, snapping his fingers.  
Instantly, they were in a dark room, with only a miniscule fire providing any light or warmth. Hunched over it was Francine. She cared not a button for the dark, for it was cheap. Yet, before either of the two teenagers behind her could speak, the fire vanished. The house was cold, colder than even Francine liked it. A shiver ran a scale down her spine as she had the entirely correct sensation that she was being watched. But before she turned around, the two narrators were hidden behind a rather large and lumpy chair.  
The house was screaming with silence. As far as Francine could tell, she was alone.  
“Bah humbug!” she muttered, beginning to turn around when an eerily familiar laughter began ringing in her ears. Grey smoke billowed all around her when, out of nowhere, two spectres appeared before her.  
“Danny? Manny? No, you’re dead!” she said, staring in horror.  
“Why do you doubt your senses?” Danny asked, tilted his top hat clad head.  
“Because a little thing affects them. You may be an undigested piece of beef , a blot of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. There’s more of gravy than of grave about you!”  
Manny, once again cackled before the two male Pranksters began to sing.  
“We’re Manny and Danny, avarice and greed. We took advantage of the poor, just ignored the-“  
“Wait a minute!” Danny cried, stopping the ominous music, “Isn’t this from the Muppets version?”  
“Yeah, it does seem weird that Charles Dickens would include a musical number in a book,” Manny added.  
Blushing furiously behind the chair, the young woman snapped her fingers.  
Now, in the cold dark streets, the two young people stood several yards away from Francine and a girl with glowing blonde hair.  
“Fozziwig’s Rubber Chicken Factory?” Lisa read, “Isn’t that from the Muppets version?”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the young woman whispered, snapping her fingers once more.  
Now standing in the middle of the snowy street, Francine and the Ghost of Christmas Present were discussing the merriment surrounding them.  
“Finally,” the male teenager muttered, “No more Muppets.”  
“It’s in the singing of a street corner choir. It’s going home and getting warm by the fire. It’s true: wherever you find love, it feels like Christmas!”  
“Seriously?” the young man all but shouted, “Have you even read the book?”  
His short friend gasped.  
“Of course I have! Just… not in five years.”  
“That was weird,” Keith concluded as he dusted himself off.  
“You’re telling me,” Francine muttered.  
“How was being dead?” Lisa asked curiously. Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Marcus interrupted.  
“Oh, look! More Shakespeare! Come on, guys!”  
He opened the book and disappeared, leaving the rest of them standing there.  
“I guess we should go after him,” Gilda said.  
“Yeah, I guess.”  
After they were all gone, two other teenagers appeared.  
“Look, I’m sorry!” the girl said.  
“That was totally ridiculous! I thought you knew the book, Tessa!”  
“I’m sorry, alright?” she cried, “Can’t we focus on the bigger picture? There’s nobody here.”  
The tall boy looked around and noticed the new book on the floor.  
“Crap,” he muttered.  
“Gandalf, what is it?”  
“More Shakespeare.”  
Two factions both alike in dignity,  
In New York City where we lay our scene.  
“That doesn’t even rhyme! Why don’t you just put city at the end of the phrase?”  
“Because that’s not what Shakespeare did!”  
“But it’s so much easier?”  
“Look, you’re the one who’s gotten arrested by the rhyming police, not me. I’m sticking close to the source right now.”  
Two factions both alike in dignity,  
In New York City where we lay our scene.  
From worthless grudge break to new mutiny,  
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.  
From forth the fatal groups of these ten foes  
A pair of star-crossed lovers take their life;  
Whose misadventured piteous overthrows  
Doth with their death bury their dear friends’ strife.  
The fearful passage of their death-marked love,  
And the continuance of their factions’ rage,  
Which, but their member’s end, naught could remove,  
Is now the story we write on the page;  
The which if you with patient eyes attend,  
What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend.  
ENTER MARCUSO  
“Oh! Oh! How my heart is filled with woe! That other people do not know! I reaped and reaped but did not sow. I wish to be taken to the gallow. Perhaps there I’d meet a cello.”  
ENTER KEITHUTIO  
“How now brown cow, what on earth is troubling thou?”  
“My heart, dear sir, my heart, my heart! She has torn it all apart! She treats me like an old spare part. Or dumb, like I work at Wal-mart. To prove my point I’ve made a chart.”  
“Dear Marcuso, friend, please don’t feel sad. I know that it can drive you mad. I know how to heal your… hearty: the plan is simple, let’s go party!”  
“But in order for your plan to work, we’d have to find a place for me to twerk.”  
“You have the invitation, right?”  
“Yeah.”  
“Alright, enter stage left.”  
ENTER MESSENGER  
“You two sirs look like upstanding neighbors. Do you not mind handing out favors?”  
“Come, Marcuso, we’ll give this guy a chance then find a place where you can dance. Sir, please tell me anyway which I could help thineself today.”  
“My boss wants these invitations delivered with speed, but trouble is I don’t know how to read.”  
“Come on come all to our festive, fabulous costumed ball. We plan to stay until a late hour up in our fine tenth street tower. As long as you promise not to commit a crime, we promise you’ll have a marvelous time.”  
EXIT MESSENGER  
“Well, that sounds fun. Hey, perhaps that party is the one! We’ll grabs some masks and fancy gear and soon your troubles will disappear!”  
“I can’t believe you made me say that I can’t read.”  
“Well, if it ain’t broke…”  
“Fair enough. The ball?”  
“The ball.”  
“Francine! Francine! Have you seen what I’ve seen? You won’t believe it; it’s too obscene!”  
“If you’re talking about Marcuso, you’re out of luck. Danny, we all noticed him; he’s dressed like a duck. But, frankly, my nephew, I don’t give a f-“  
“They weren’t invited because we have a blood feud. But he wears some feathers and you’re suddenly wooed?”  
“Nephew, perhaps the party makes your head hazy enough to forget I’m unspeakably lazy. They’ll stay as long as they aren’t rude. That way is simply easier, my dude.”  
“Our star-crossed lovers haven’t exactly crossed paths.”  
“These things take time. That’s the entire point of the show.”  
“Can’t you just speed this up?”  
“Patience, grasshopper.”  
“Miss, please do not judge or pity. I know I look like an atrocity. I just wanted to say that you are very pretty.”  
“Your comment isn’t terribly witty. Every girl as she walks around New York City gets honked at by men and told that she’s pretty.”  
“Their affections are usually itty-bitty, whereas my feelings towards you can’t be expressed through linguality. You see, my affections must fly like chitty chitty or else the bang bang would destroy this whole city.”  
“That was an extremely unnecessary metaphor that I find charming, though why I’m not sure. Perhaps later tonight you’ll join me on the floor, but for now I must return to the duty to which I once swore.”  
“Are you happy?”  
“No, I still think Midsummer Night’s Dream would’ve been way more entertaining to do.”  
“O Marcuso, o Marcuso, wherefore art thou Marcuso?”  
“I’m down here!”  
“No, wherefore means why, dear. Forsake thy name, and I with mine shall do the same.”  
“We must run away. My friends will never except you as my bae. Dear Gildaet, we must be wed before any further blood is shed.”  
“Though I have a list of reservations, to your plan I shall agree and trust you on the road ahead. After all, you are a bit older, and if it goes wrong, it’s not as if anyone will be dead.”  
SEVERAL DEAD BODIES LATER  
“I still can’t believe we actually did that.”  
“Yeah, but it’s totally gonna be worth it.”  
“Have fun storming the… monastery, I guess.”  
“The worst part of waking up is having to go help people with the plague puke into a cup.”  
“Friar! Friar! Wait there’s a familiar scent on the clothes of thine. It’s plague; you must go in quarantine!”  
“Oh dear, young Marcuso does not know of our plans I fear. Yet I cannot argue with the lady here. The rules are strict and I must adhere.”  
“Glad this is wrapping up soon. You’ve got Wicked set up already, right?”  
“Yes on both accounts.”  
“My wife! My dead dead wife! Guess I gotta take my life. I know of a way that’s a real punch-packer: the Skeleckian Alackazoot’s Death Cracker!”  
ENTER FRIAR, LADY LISA, HECTOR, PRINCE SHOCK, MANNY, AND ANNIE.  
“Marcuso, halt my boy! That death cracker is not a toy.”  
“Oh, shut up, Hector, let him be. His life is already an atrocity.”  
“I have a question, you all have the time. Does anyone know why we constantly rhyme?”  
“Good question, Manny. I seem to recall a time in which we didn’t rhyme at all. We jumped into the pages of a book which led to our non-rhyming ability being took.”  
“Taken, Hector. The word is taken. But how was our reality so shaken? Who in the world could force us to rhyme and drag us in here time after time?”  
“Remember that guy way back at the diner? How he ruined a day that couldn’t seem finer? The rhyming police took him that day… but I think, perhaps, he somehow got away.”  
“I remember him! He made me disappear! I think I actually saw him here. He was holding the invitation, the one that sent me to a Prankster celebration.”  
“Come to think of it, I saw him as well. He was talking to a girl near the citadel. Her hair was short and she really was curvy. Do you think they’re the ones who made our lives topsy turvy?”  
“We have to get to the bottom of this before those fiends force any of us to kiss!”  
Tessa and Gandalf leaped out of the book.  
“They’re onto us!” she cried.  
The Electric Company and Pranksters jumped out as well.  
“Get them!” Danny shouted.  
“Run!” Gandalf also shouted.  
As the two began to make a run for it, Hector, Danny, Jessica, Keith, and Annie began to chase them.  
“We can do it!” Gandalf cried.  
They, in fact, could not and were dragged back into the library.  
“Alright, now what’s going on?” Francine demanded.  
“Yeah, what’s happening here?” Gilda added.  
“Okay, okay,” Tessa said, giving in, “Okay, so there’s a couple of timelines going on all at once and I’m not a hundred percent sure how this works, but there’s a timeline in which I saved all of you from evil muffins, so keep that in mind.”  
“But who are you and what are you doing here?” Hector asked.  
“Well, you all know Gandalf from that wonderful little poem of his,” she said, “And you remember Buddy?”  
“Unfortunately,” Francine muttered.  
“Well, we all come from a separate dimension where you guys are from a PBS show that got cancelled,” Gandalf explained, “And we, minus the bear, write fanfiction about all of you.”  
Manny paled.  
“I really don’t want to picture that.”  
“Ew, no!” Gandalf cried.  
“No, nothing like that. Mostly just kissing and merry misadventures,” Tessa explained.  
“So why are you here?” Keith asked.  
“Writer’s block,” Gandalf said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Neither of us have updated in months.”  
“After the poem incident, we started planning a more subtle way to get stories out of you guys without actually having to write anything. We wrote up this library setup and got you all here. Now we have thousands of words of new content!”  
“But wait,” Jessica interrupted, “How did you think you’d get away with this?”  
“Meat!” a low voice shouted, “Have you seen my butt?”  
“Oh no,” Lisa whispered.  
“BUDDY!” everyone shouted as they ran away, leaving Gandalf and Tessa alone in the library.  
“I’ve got some jerky,” Gandalf called. The small bear jumped down from a high shelf.  
“Gee thanks, mister! Hey, guess what? I am not throwing away my shot! I am not throwing away my shot! You know I’m just like my country; I’m young, scrappy, and hungry. And I’m not throwing away my shot!” the bear sang.  
“Let’s get home,” Tessa said, “We’ve got some editing to do.”


End file.
